Untitled

[wordswillneverbenough]

Nurture your child this, bring out your inner child that… MY INNER CHILD IS A DISEASE. MY INNER CHILD IS A DISEASE. MY INNER CHILD WILL INFECT YOU WITH HER BLANKNESS AND HER CLENCHED LITTLE FISTS AND HER STRANGE LITTLE SORROW. YOU DO NOT WANT TO LOOK AT HER. YOU DO NOT GET TO TOUCH HER.

[wordswillneverbenough]

As a child, God was very lonely. He was near-sighted, but no-one could find him the right glasses, so the world was always slightly damp-looking. He hid in cupboards when his parents fought. He crushed all the lightbulbs when his father left. He was a pleasure to have in class, but a pain to have at the dinner table. He refused to pass the bread basket. He refused to touch the knives. He answered every question with a shrug, and at night, he often argued with the ceiling. “I think you gave me the wrong name,” he told his mother, after he scorched her herb garden just by looking at it. When he walked, he walked with the bitter sway of someone who has never relaxed their shoulders.